


A Magical Concept

by Rasiaa



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Day Off, M/M, Mathias's endless sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25278712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasiaa/pseuds/Rasiaa
Summary: He's not going to look at this too closely, for once. He has better things to do.Like Flynn Fairwind, for instance.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 16
Kudos: 83





	A Magical Concept

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my computer for weeks. I just couldn't find a good ending for it. Still not sure if this is right, but here it is.  
> Also--is anyone else still in shock that Fairshaw is actually canon now?  
> Like, you could not imagine my delight when I went on the wikia and found that on Shaw's page, there's a mention of his chat with Valeera, and "Someone" he'd like to get to know better links to Flynn's page. It's brilliant.
> 
> (and by the way, this is the kind of stupid humor you get when I'm writing at 3 am. It's probably a lot less funny than I think it is.)  
> (I know it wasn't as funny the next day, anyway.)

See, here's the thing. _Technically_ speaking, he has one day off a week. _Technically_. It can be any day he chooses, but he is allowed one day without interruption. A whole twenty four hours to do whatever he wants, to not have to deal with people at all. (What a magical concept, honestly.)

No one enforces this. He can't remember the last time he had a day off. He figured out years ago that no one even knows about this rule. No one reads the fine print, obviously. (Varian did. He fucking ignored it. Guess what Anduin was never told?) 

Normally, he doesn't care. Used to; stopped years ago. There are more important things, like making sure the kingdom doesn't fall to ruin.

That might be bad.

(Maybe. Probably.)

There are days, every once in a while, where he's so tired and fed up that he wants to take at least one day--he could take more, he's missed so many--and just sleep for as long as he wants. It's the prospect of a mountain of paperwork greeting him in the morning that stops that thought in its tracks. (Truly. He can barely stand to sleep for two _hours_ because of the fucking paperwork, never mind a whole _day_. Him going out to the field is a _nightmare_.)

But.

Anduin has done what he always seems to do lately and pissed off Tyrande, which is... inconvenient, to say the least, but for now, that's one less person he has to deal with, since she's gone off to who-knows-where to chase the Banshee Bitch. And that's fine. (He's got agents on it. He'll get a report eventually. She's still a high ranking leader; it would not be a good idea to lose track of her.)

The Proudmoore family is playing nice again. Always a good thing; they'll entertain themselves and that's yet more people he can trust not to die in the next few days, weeks, hopefully months. Years would be best. (He's trying for optimism, okay? He's trying. You get points for that, right?)

(Probably not.)

The rest of the Alliance is busy rebuilding, which is fan-fucking-tastic, because, hey, rebuilding; and, even better, they'll be okay _on their own_ to scream at their subordinates over where to move a brick or something. (He would feel bad for the subordinates, except he does the same thing to his agents and doesn't feel bad for them. Is that bad? Probably. He doesn't care.)

And finally, the Horde is too busy being rearranged into... a council of some sort, last he heard. More people to deal with all at once, but that... that's later. They need to figure themselves out first. (Given the Horde's recent history of one Warchief after another, he's not too optimistic about this, but at least it's different. Different is good, right?)

(Pretty sure.)

All this to say, for once, he can cash in on those days off and not worry too much about things going to hell in a hand basket. (He'll worry anyway, will probably have dreams about it; N'Zoth might be gone (gone-ish? Maybe?) but the nightmares, unfortunately, will probably remain until he finally dies.) 

(He would never dream of getting a break; that's too much to hope for. Selfish, really.)

He's not going to look at this too closely, for once. He has better things to do.

Like Flynn Fairwind, for instance.

...

Honestly, Kul Tiras is nice, he's sure. Most of the time. Hasn't been lately, but Flynn assures him it's not usually so... helpless. It can run itself, apparently, without Alliance champions kicking things into place. Mathias knows full well that, should this be true, it runs a hell of a lot better than the rest of the world, because champions have to meddle everywhere. All the time. It's a real headache.

Though he supposes that it did just fine on its own for several years. The rest of the world can't go for a _month_ without something breaking somewhere.

(The only thing that hasn't broken is the sky. He hopes it stays this way.)

Regardless of how functional Kul Tiras may or may not be, Mathias has had enough. He's ready, beyond ready, to go home. This war has been chaotic and... pretty random, which is annoying on top of all the stress already present.

Graciously, Flynn decides to tag along to Stormwind. (Gracious. Ha. He appreciates that he gets to keep Flynn close, but the pirate has never been _gracious_ a day in his life.)

"By the Tides, mate, have you ever considered just how _big_ Stormwind is? Boralus could fit in one of these districts by itself and you said there's _five_ of them?"

Mathias is aware, vaguely, that Stormwind is a very large city. However, he knows every alley and every shop and every cobblestone like the back of his hand, and so the city seems much, much smaller than it actually is. He knows a lot of people, is on a first name basis with the bakers in the Trade District and with the tailors in the Mage Quarter, among others. Walking from his home in Old Town to the docks takes some time, but it never _seems_ to. He knows the shortcuts.

"Five, yes."

"What the hell, mate. There must be a lot of places to drink, right?"

The man has so few priorities.

"Yes, quite a few. I live very close to a tavern, don't worry."

"Ha, I knew I stuck around for a good reason. Where _do_ you live, anyway? We've been walking forever."

They've been walking for a little under an hour. As he said, it takes some time to get to Old Town from the docks on foot. Horses make things easier but he rarely takes the opportunity.

"Behind SI:7 headquarters. Old Town."

" _Old Town_? You're joking. That's what they call it?"

He sighs.

"Yes."

Flynn just laughs and keeps looking around. He's energized from culture shock and exploration, though Mathias believes that as soon as they get to his house, the Kul Tiran will collapse onto the bed and be out like a light.

That's Mathias's plan, anyway. Flynn can do as he pleases; since he's more or less completely dependent on Mathias for direction at the moment, he can't really go anywhere without getting lost. He'll find a map to give him later.

"You Eastern Kingdoms folk are insane, you know that?" Flynn points to the sky above the Dwarven District. "You realize that's been smoking the entire time we've been walking? No one seems to care."

"If it _wasn't_ smoking, I'd be concerned," Mathias answers. "The Dwarfs do a lot of blacksmithing there. Lots of loud noises as something explodes. Gnomes make sure everyone knows when they conduct tests so that when fires start, people know why."

Mathias has lived most of his life in Stormwind, so it never occurred to him that this might sound absolutely _absurd_ to foreigners. He's never had to explain it before, oddly enough. Everyone just... knows that. Dwarfs and Gnomes make things explode. Obviously things tend to smoke.

Flynn stares at him like he has two heads. "...you're joking."

"No."

"By the _Tides_!" Flynn cries. "Insane! You're all insane." He's laughing too hard to get out any more words.

Mathias has to guide Flynn around Old Town. People look out their windows when they hear him, and Mathias has to wave them back into their homes. They give _him_ even odder looks, because when he appears, usually he's _right there_ without anyone even knowing he was nearby. Besides, Old Town is the quietest district by far. Too many top secret happenings for it not to be.

Flynn calms by the time they get close to Mathias's house. It's behind SI:7 headquarters, tucked away where no one can find him unless they already know the house is there. He likes it that way; sometimes his only source of amusement is watching his agents get increasingly frustrated trying to find him while he sits in front of the window in his house. (That's not very nice, he knows. Doesn't care. He knows when it's urgent business anyway. They send someone high ranked for that, just for this reason.)

"That was complicated," Flynn remarks. Mathias slides his key into his front door. "How do you not get lost? I don't think I can find this place again tomorrow."

"I can show you. I've lived here a long time, Flynn. I don't get lost."

The door swings open. They head inside and Mathias heads to the fireplace to get a fire going. Flynn starts wandering. (He's glad he never keeps anything important here.)

"This is so much _nicer_ than what I've got in Boralus," Flynn calls. There's three rooms in the house; a front room, a kitchen, and the bedroom. Flynn's place was one room and the front door barely worked, like most homes there. Boralus is an old city, and, with all the corruption, not one that got regular maintenance. Jaina aims to change that, he knows.

"It's comfortable," Mathias answers after a moment, not sure what else to say. The fire roars to life and he stands, dusting his hands off. He heads into the bedroom.

Flynn dropped his bags by the foot of the bed and is in the middle of taking off his coat when Mathias finds him. He grins and throws the coat onto the chair in the corner. "Hello," he says.

Mathias rolls his eyes and accepts the kiss Flynn pulls him into. He drops his bags next to Flynn's and then wraps his arms around Flynn to lessen the distance between them. (Flynn seems amused that Mathias has to stand on his toes when they kiss; Mathias is significantly less so.)

They make it to the bed by mutual agreement. Mathias breaks the kiss and starts counting, trailing kisses over Flynn's jaw line.

One minute and twelve seconds later, Flynn's asleep.

He knew it.

(Flynn will be horrified in the morning, he knows, will likely make some comment about how they missed the chance to christen the bed. Mathias is too exhausted to care.)

...

When Flynn stirs, Mathias wakes instantly, completely aware. Annoying, no matter how useful the skill.

Flynn's used to that, evidently, even though Mathias hasn't moved or opened his eyes. He presses a kiss to his hair and murmurs, "Go back to sleep. I'll be right back."

He wants to protest that it's not that easy; he's awake now, won't be going back to sleep any time soon, especially with someone wandering his house.

He's asleep before Flynn leaves the bedroom.

...

Flynn stumbles back into the room. Mathias blinks awake, lifting his head to stare. He wasn't asleep for long, according to his internal clock, but it feels like forever.

Flynn catches his eye and smiles sheepishly, making Mathias instantly suspicious. "Didn't mean to wake you," Flynn says.

"You would have regardless of intent," Mathias answers, sitting up. He runs his fingers through his hair, suddenly nervous, which is ridiculous. It's just Flynn, and they're both adults.

(Somewhat debatable, perhaps, depending on the day, but--)

"True enough," Flynn agrees, crawling back into the bed. He tugs Mathias into his arms, and it's only years of training that allows him to not fall into Flynn's lap like a child. Flynn's strength always manages to catch him off guard, for some reason. He can feel Flynn's laughter more than hear it; Flynn holds him tighter and presses a few kisses to his hair. "Good morning," he says.

Mathias wants to fight him, just a bit. Instead he just sighs and leans his head on Flynn's shoulder. "Morning."

"I suggest one of two things, if you're amenable."

"What's that?" he asks, turning his head to kiss along Flynn's neck and jaw line. (He might be a bit obsessed, honestly.) Flynn tilts his head to allow it and his voice shakes just slightly as he replies:

"The first is a tour--" he cuts himself off to press a brief kiss to Mathias's mouth, "--of Stormwind. This city needs to be documented somewhere--"

"I have maps," Mathias says, but Flynn mostly ignores him.

"--since it's impossible to find anything. I can't even find my way off this property." He runs his hand down Mathias's side, then under his shirt to trail along the line of his trousers. " _Or_ \--we could just stay right here. All day. Postpone anything else."

(What a magical concept.)

Mathias flips them over so Flynn is on his back, staring up at him, and Mathias is straddling his waist. He leans down and kisses him, trailing his fingers over his chest as he does so, undoing buttons and scraping his nails over Flynn's skin. Flynn groans and arches into him. Mathias presses him down and breaks the kiss. "I think I like option two," he murmurs, biting gently on Flynn's bottom lip.

Flynn laughs slightly, wrapping his arms around Mathias to press them together. "Me too," he whispers, and resumes the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Good news: I found a copy of Shadows Rising  
> Bad news: It was _online,_ and won't be available for me to pick up until _July 20th_ at the earliest
> 
> So thank you walmart for having it 5 dollars cheaper than everyone else  
> and fuck you for the 5 days extra wait time.


End file.
